


Gilmore's Glorious Bachelorette Party

by My_Bardic_Inspiration



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27590044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Bardic_Inspiration/pseuds/My_Bardic_Inspiration
Relationships: Grog Strongjaw & Trisha, Keyleth/Kashaw Vesh/Sean Gilmore, Keyleth/Shaun Gilmore/Kashaw Vesh, Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia, Scanlan Shorthalt/Pike Trickfoot
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re sure about this?” Cassandra asked, looking sidelong at her sister-in-law. 

“Darling, it’s your last weekend as a free woman.” She laughed teasingly. “What better excuse for a little ladies’ night out.” 

“We could have just gone to the Tipsy Quorum.” A slightly nervous tone as she eyed the glimmering doorway that had appeared in the Whitestone Castle gardens just a half hour ago. “Your friend is a little...odd.” 

“No, Darling. He’s _glorious._ ” Vex chuckled. 

“Vex!” The red-haired Voice of the Tempest came scampering up, her usual elegant attire foregone for a simple dress of mossy green that grew darker at the hemline. Throwing her arm around her friend she smiled at Cassandra. “You look so lovely. I can’t believe you and Kynan are getting married in less than a week.” 

“Nor can I.” Cassandra admitted with a smile that seemed, as her brother’s, to be tainted at the edges by sorrow. 

Vex noticed it. She had made it her life goal to ensure the last generation of De Rolos to ever wear that smile were already grown. "Well, it should not surprise you. He adores you and you make him a better man. What more could any sister hope for in a match?” 

“We’re here!” A cheery voice crowed from behind them and Pike Trickfoot walked quickly beside the figure of Cassandra’s long-time personal guard and friend, Trisha. 

“Hey.” The taller of the women waved. She’d been instrumental in the early stages of Kynan and Cassandra’s relationship, acting as guard during their private rendezvous, carrying notes back and forth, and generally keeping Percy in the dark until they were sure it was something more than just a youthful fling. 

“Okay, that’s everyone.” Cassandra sighed. “Here goes.” Stepping through the door. 

Beyond it lay what looked, in every possible way, like they’d crossed innummeral miles to Marquet. The foyer floor was smooth white stone as was the desk. A figure stood behind it, slightly translucent in a robe of flowing magenta and purple with gold embroidery Her hair was dark and drawn up and back into a ponytail that draped across her shoulder. 

“Good day and welcome to the Mystic Springs Spa.” She bowed, her fingertips at her brow touching and moving outward. “I am most pleased to have you joining us. Follow me, if you will.” 

The ladies looked at one another, mixed between confusion and anticipation, and trailed behind the figure through the only visible door, a large archway hung with layers of translucent beads in blues and greens like a sea in the sunshine gittering. 

Beyond the curtain the spa spread out before them. The central courtyard was immense. A rich garden of flowers and trimmed lawn. At the center, a large pool of glistening azure water was fed by a tumbling waterfall. Surrounding it was a stone patio with lounging chairs and sofas of smooth wood and pristine cushions under pergolas on which climbing roses gave shade and fragrance to the air. 

There was a curved dome above them that seemed translucent, allowing in the warm sunlight but filtering it franctionally to give everything a warm and almost ethereal glow. Surrounding the gardens was a covered walkway and many doors at various distances around the three-quarter circle. 

“Refreshments?” From both sides seemed to appear staff of every sort in white robes or tunic and trousers holding out trays of piled fruits, decadent chocolates, goblets of bubbling champagne and deep rich red wine. “Come, I will show you to your rooms.” 

They followed, drinks in hand refilled the instant they’d been emptied. “I could get used to this.” Trisha chuckled as one by one they were shown to their individual suites. Each consisted of a sitting room with chairs and tables suitable to their height, a little reading nook with what looked to be a veritable treasure trove of romance novels and collections of saucy tales complete with full color and very realistic illustrations.

Beyond the sitting room was a bedroom with a large wooden four-post bed hung with gauzy curtains that drifted in the breeze that seemed everpresent. There was also a desk and paper with ink and styluses for writing and a large wardrobe to hold the items they’d brought for their holiday. 

The last room was a private bathing chamber with a tub large enough that there’d be no worries anyone’s knees would stick out of the water while they stretched out. Water closet, a contraption of pipes that lead up to a round disc punctuated by what seemed a hundred holes in the corner and a wicker stand with piles of fluffy towels, robes of softest cotton, even little leather-soled slip-on sandals. 

“The other rooms here are created to grant you only peace and relaxation…” The ghostly woman spoke as she indicated various rooms as they circled the garden. “Mud baths, seaweed wraps, massages…” She opened a door and rolling steam escaped the room of wooden seats and a hot cauldron of stones at the center, then through to the next room as cold as the first was hot, the pool fed by a fountain that dripped down blocks of ice. 

“We also offer personal care. Hair removal, manicures, pedicures, hot oil treatments … whatever you desire is yours. This package is, of course, all inclusive so whatever your slightest whim might be you have is our joy to bring to life. I will leave you now, if you’ve no further questions, to settle in and enjoy your day of pampering.” 

When she left, there was a palpable feeling of ‘what now’. 

“Mimosas?” Vex asked aloud. 

“Mimosas” Pike and Keyleth echoed in the affirmative. Within minutes they were all laid out across the massage tables, naked save their towels and glinting with oil, their cocktails at their fingertips on polished tables with notches cut out for the stems of the goblets. The day passed with nothing more than getting every knot of tension, every kink of stress pushed, pulled, plucked or pounded out of their bodies. 

By lunchtime they were content to linger by the pool, cool cloths draped over their eyes, luxuriating in the warmth of the sun through the crystalline dome above them. The Lunch was delicious. Tiny sandwiches and little sweet cakes with honey, fried potatoes so thin they almost broke when you touched them and seasoned with spices that made the tongue tingle faintly. 

They napped and sweated and read and, in short, took a well-needed breather from the strains of life beyond these walls. Eventually they’d have to go back to being mother and official, Pale Guard, head of the temple of the Everlight and Voice of the Tempest, but here, now, they were just … relaxing. 

As the sun began to dip, they were again met by the same woman from the entrance, the only one there in those brightly colored robes. “Ladies, I am pleased to let you know that after dinner there will be a special presentation to celebrate the young lady whose happy union is the reason we have gathered here. You will find in your rooms a gift for each of you, with the hopes you will find them pleasing.” A bow of her head and she was gone again. 

“Mmm.” Keyleth said, her deep red locks still damp from her dip in the pool. “I like presents…” Her voice drowsy-sounding. “Have to go and … check that out.” She sighed and snuggled down into the soft lounge chair. “In a minute.”

Her attitude, if not the words, were echoed by each of them, all content to just lie there for a few minutes more before curiosity overcame the languid feeling of relaxation and they adjourned to their rooms. Their gifts turned out to be beautiful dresses of some silky fabric that caressed their bodies faintly and fell to just above the knee. It had only thin straps for sleeves but a scarf of the same cloth was provided to drape over the near-bare shoulders as well as a pair of slippers that matched in color. Surprisingly, there was a small pouch in the same material that contained what appeared to be fifty copper pieces. 

As they exited for dinner, it was clear that each lady had the same gift, except in different colors. Keyleth’s was a rich green, Cassandra’s a soft purple, Vex’ahlia and Pike were both in blue though the former was a deep royal and the latter a soft almost arctic blue while Trisha’s was a dark dried-blood red. 

The banquet laid out was richer than the luncheon and the champagne and mimosas easily shifted to ale and heartier wines, whiskeys and harder stuff as they chatted about memories and the men in their lives. From somewhere that seemed everywhere at once, a slow cadence began, like a bell to announce the time but it was more like a tiny cymbal being tapped. 

Ting… ting.. ting… ting ting ting-ting-ting-ting… The sound became more musical, a beat that seemed to rise in strength, joined by drums and flutes, horns and strings as where the pool’s water glimmered, lights began to erupt, bobbing up like apples and then rising into the air to illuminate the grove.

The space over the water began to pour out mist of lilac and lime that twisted and coiled, then solidified, the smoky air above it flashing like clouds full of lightning, a dark shape appearing within. The chaises of their earlier lounging were replaced with small benches that matched their dresses in color spaced out across the stones before the pool area. 

They grabbed up their drinks and hurried to take a seat as the music swelled and throbbed. “Love.” A voice poured out like honey, a voice familiar to most. “It’s possibly the most magical thing in the whole world. It is the rarest gem, the sweetest fruit, the most dangerous blade and the most worthy quest. You have found your love and so… we join with you to celebrate!” 

In a flash of fireworks the smoke vanished and their host stood, arms out, his robes of vivid violet and gold glinting in the light, his swarthy skin and dark hair, the posture and air of one who knew what magic really was. Shaun Gilmore in all his glory stepped forward, his smile broad and his eyes sparkling. “I do hope you ladies are feeling relaxed? Comfortable? Pleased?”

Vex cheered and the others swiftly joined her, whooping and whistling as they laughed. 

“Then, I should think, having had so much given to you today, you might feel like … oh, I don’t know… giving something back.” He raised his arms, his robe sliding down to leave them bare as his fingers wove sigils in the air. “Direct from the Gilded Esplanade in Port Damali… I present, The Party!” 

With a hiss of smoke, Gilmore vanished and upon the stage were five male creatures, each of them a perfect physical specimen. There were two humans, one fair who appeared to be a ranger of some sort, a dark-haired one with bulging muscles who was wearing leather pants and a vest trimmed in fur with a large warhammer in his hands, a teifling with wine-colored skin and spiraling black horns that ran back along his skull, wearing the robes of The Moonweaver, a lithe elf with his hair cut short save for the top where it was drawn into a topknot, billowing monk robes and a squat dwarf whose fingers sparkled and flickered, his reddish beard in twin braids over his chest. 

For a moment, they were still, then the music rose again and they began to dance. The floating lights began to flash between colors. Purple and pink and gold and green in turn, pulsing like the music. 

Squeals of shock rose as the dancers moved as one, gyrating and swaying to the pulsating beat. They moved apart, stepping down toward the ladies. The ranger lifted one arm and plucked off his bracer, tossing it behind him, then the other. A slow shimmy, hips rolling as he peeled his shirt overhead and whipped it in a circle as he paused before Cassandra. She covered her face and giggled, tipsy and shocked, peeking up at him with giddy apology. 

At the opposite end of the spectrum, Trisha had shoved her fingers in her mouth and let out a whistle that cut the air, whooping with a wide grin as the dwarf shook his rump at her. A meaty smack on the butt before she dug out her coin purse, looking to the others. “Haven’t you ever done this before?” 

She grinned and the other ladies noticed that each man wore a small wooden box with a slit in it at their hipline. Trisha slid her palm over the dwarf’s shaved head and then trailed down his chest as he gyrated, dropping a few coins in his box so it now jangled with every pelvic thrust. “Can’t touch the goodies, but otherwise, they don’t mind a little hands-on.”

The tiefling before Keyleth was slowly untying the robe, his shoulders rolling, the naked plane of his claret chest bared more with every sway. His tail lifted and the tip ran along her neck, making her jump, his fanged smile growing. The symbol of the Moonweaver was not removed with the robe, but rode as a tattoo across his breastbone, the cloth slipping down around his bare feet, his silken trousers as thin as the covering of a glazed Slayer’s Cake donut. 

The dark-haired ‘barbarian’ ripped off his vest with flex of muscles, his massive biceps bulging as he set his arms to clasp over his head, his hips rolling. Vex gave a stifled snicker and reached up to put a coin in his box. He grabbed her wrists and set her palms on his chest, dragging them downward as he bopped to the music, earning a little shocked squeal and four more coins when he let her hands free just above his leather belt. 

The elf had planted his staff before Pike’s spot and was hanging upside down currently, his foot hooked near the top as he let gravity peel his shirt down and off his hands. Fingers lifted in her direction and she blushed but held out a handful of coins which caused him to spin around the pole like a pinwheel, putting it to his back as he spread his knees and crouched with a little sinuous wriggle of his hips as she dropped the coins in, one arm stretched up to grip the staff above his head, the other reaching out to twist a lock of pale white-blonde around his fingertip, looking deeply into her eyes with a smolder that drove a blush to the cleric’s cheek. 

It didn’t end there. The men moved and shifted, changing partners and losing clothing until they were all wearing little more than a tiny scrap of cloth over their manly-bits. Their every move was now a counter-point of chiming with the pounding music, as one they fell to a crouch, creeping toward the ladies with animal grace and hungered expressions, hands planted on their shins, crawling up each woman’s body, leaning in, lips a fraction from their own as the music exploded in crescendo and with a ‘pop’ the men vanished only to reappear on the stage, fully dressed, each in a pose displaying their persona. 

Cheering wildly, laughing and throwing the rest of their coins toward the stage, the ladies were all smiles. The men of The Party took a collective bow and with a shimmer like sparks falling in a curtain, they were obscured and then gone. 

Gilmore appeared. With a wave of his hand, the music shifted to something less raucous and more sensual. The globes’ light changed back to a calming soft pink as they drifted overhead. Where had been the stage on which the dancers had been shaking their goods now was what seemed a flat pool of quicksilver. Upon it were five stone columns, on each of which sat a small stained glass chest.

“Ladies… to ensure your time here is spent only in the indulgence of your every whim, I shall, for a single night, grant you the gifts of the Djinn and you may call forth a servant who will live only to bring your every caprice to reality.” His hand rose and the chests did the same, drifting as if being carried by unseen hands toward each of them. “Though I assure you these creatures are the most sensual of beings, possessed of talents that would leave any lover breathless, they will do nothing you do not ask of them. They are, though the word is abhorrent, your slaves for the night.” 

The chests settled on each of their laps. “You have but to break the seal on the item in the way that best suits you, and the spell is cast.” He stepped back, jeweled fingers steepled before his lips. “I would advise, Ladies, that you retire to your rooms before activating. It might be a bit… overwhelming to have them all set off in one place.” 

Looking from one to another, they all seemed to be weighing the option. “Should we all do it together?” Cassandra asked with a little tipsy chuckle. 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Keyleth offered, her lip bitten in obvious discomfiture with the whole idea. 

Vex’s gaze was canny. No doubt she suspected what was making Keyleth so nervous. “I think Gilmore’s right, ladies. That way no one feels pressured to do anything they might not want to.” 

“Alright.” Pike stood up and tucked her chest under her arm. “Mimosas and gossip in the morning then?”

“Sounds good to me.” Cassandra stood up, wavering a bit, having really enjoyed the free wine a bit more than she usually allowed herself. 

Trisha put out a hand to help Cassandra get back on her feet and threw her arm around her friend, walking her back toward her suite. “So, you going to do it?” Said under her breath with a grin. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” She was still flushed from the performance. “I love Kynan…” 

“And no matter what you do, that’s not going to change. Have some fun while you can.” She nudged her with her hip and then strolled toward her own room with a little whistle on her lips. 

At the center of the garden, Gilmore swept away the stage and dimmed the lights, a little smile clinging to his lips. 

Chapter Two - Cassandra  
Chapter Three - Vex’ahlia  
Chapter Four - Keyleth  
Chapter Five - Pike  
Chapter Six -Trisha


	2. Cassandra

Cassandra Johanna von Mussel Klossowski De Rolo was feeling it. She had not ever been much for drink but it had seemed appropriate for the party setting. Now that she was alone, she thought it best to sober up a little. She wondered where all the staff had gone. She needed coffee. 

She looked at the chest of amethyst glass that she’d been given. She laughed to herself recalling the dire warning about carnal creatures set to deflower the innocent or whatnot. It was silly. She had no desire for that. If it _was_ her slave for the night, however, it could go fetch her some coffee. 

She opened the chest and inhaled deeply through her nose, her eyes narrowed in confusion. On the cushion of deep purple velvet sat a small silver ball. She lifted it, the weight familiar in her fingers. She turned it over in her palm. She’d loaded similar balls a dozen times on the shooting range in Whitestone. 

“Weird.” She closed her hand, excepting for her index and thumb, pointing it like a gun at the door. “Peeww!” she let her thumb bend. 

With a rush of warmth that didn’t burn, a flash of bright light flew against the door, splashing there in a large oval that was black as pitch in the center, the edges glowing like burning paper. Through the portal stepped a figure clad in elegant attire. A finely tailored suit of black, a crimson vest beneath, tall glossy boots and a white shirt with a frilly cravat under his chin. His features were lost behind a mask of what appeared to be black leather. It had sharp cheekbones and intense brows, the temples turning to coiled horns like a ram’s. 

The portal behind him faded, the door unharmed. Silently, he gave a slight bow of his head, watching her intently from behind the mask. 

She swallowed hard, attempting to not look at him too long as he oozed sensuality and danger. “Supposedly you have to obey me. So… bring me some coffee.”

He bowed again and with a sweep of his hand, a silver coffee service was laid out before her. He moved to pour her a cup, adding sugar until it was her preferred sweetness. He then held it out in fingers covered by fine leather gloves. 

“Um, thank you.” She took a sip too soon and burned her tongue. “ow...damnit” She set the cup down and found his hand cupping her chin, his thumb lightly brushing across her lower lip. “Stop that.. I’m fine.” She leaned away from his touch, annoyed by how her body was growing all tingly. 

He stepped back, bowing his head again, showing his obedience to her wishes though she did not feel in the least any safer with him out of arm’s reach. 

“Do.. you not speak?” She said with a quaver in her voice. 

“When asked.” His voice low and gravelly. 

“Do you have a name?” She took the cup back up in her hands, forcing them to stop shaking. 

“I am yours. Name me as pleases you.” His rumbling tone seemed to shudder through her loins. 

“And if I don’t want you?” She asked, glancing up. 

“That is not the case.” He growled with a smile that flashed teeth that gleamed in the low lantern light. 

“I am quite happy with my betrothed.” She set the cup down with a clatter, wishing she didn’t feel so wobbly. “I don’t need you.” 

“Need? Perhaps no. Want?” He stepped closer. “Very much yes.” 

“I most certainly do not.” She sat up, elegant and cool in the face of distress. She was a De Rolo and they did not flinch from challenge. 

“Liar.” He seethed with a grin. 

“Fine, I think you’re very… tempting. That does not matter. I love Kynan and he is sweet and good and gentle and brave and … very handsome as it happens. So, I have no interest in some… incubus or whatever you are.” She wavered a bit and wrinkled her nose against the dullness that was plaguing her head and making it hard to concentrate on anything but how well he filled out that suit. 

“One kiss.” His voice a serpent’s hiss. “If you feel nothing then I will go and you may have your sweet and gentle boy.” He moved toward her and his hand slid up against her throat, his gloved fingertips placed just beneath her jaw where her pulse was hammering. “If, however, you feel pleasure … you will give yourself to me.” 

She nodded once. She was sure it would be nothing at all. She could always just lie and pretend she didn’t feel anything. He had no way of telling after all. His mouth covered hers and he kissed her with a heated passion she instinctively rose to meet. His hand slid to wind in her hair and hold her still as the kiss deepened. When she slid her hands over his shoulders and pulled herself to him, she felt as well as heard the low gutteral chuckle. 

She could feel herself melting into him, and whatever sober part still lived in her brain screamed for action. She ran into the next room, the creature in pursuit. Her hand slid under her pillow, the dagger in hand as she whirled and drove him back with a forearm to his chest, the dagger’s blade coming up to rest at his throat. 

“Honey! Cas.. Cas it’s me!” He pushed the mask up. “It’s me. It’s me.” 

“Kynan!” She blinked in confusion and then stepped back only to drive her fist toward his breadbasket, knocking his wind out a bit. “What the Hell is wrong with you?!”

“I was just.. “ he coughed and lifted his hands in a placating manner. “I was just trying to give you a night of wickedness so you wouldn’t feel like you, you know.. missed out on sowing your wild oats or whatever.” he rubbed at the spot where she’d punched him. “You’re getting better.”

She stewed for a minute, pacing as her inebriated brain worked to make all the connections. She looked over at him, peeved at the trick but still, she’d not gotten steamed up for some stranger. She’d known somehow it was him. It wasn’t cheating if it was your betrothed, right? 

Biting her lip she flipped the dagger over in her hand and sent it flying, the point going into the doorframe with a dull thud. With a little smile she reached up and pulled the mask back down slowly until she could see his eyes again, eyes she had known were his in her heart even if her brain was slow on the uptake. 

“I’ve always said I had a little darkness in me. How about giving me a little more?”

His grin turned to a low growl as he pulled her to him. “As you desire.”


	3. Vex'ahlia

The door to her suite closed, Vex’ahlia bit her lip. The chest was set on the table before the sofa, that sapphire glass giving no hint of what lay within. A slave for the night? Well, she’d no temptations to bed anyone. Still, someone to rub her feet or read to her from one of those salacious books while she ate chocolates and drank all the wine it took to get utterly sauced? That was in the realm of possibility. 

Opening the chest, on the velvet cushion sat a single gold coin. She lifted it and turned it in her fingers. The markings were of no realm she’d ever seen. Idly she turned it over in her fingers. “Break the seal on the item in the way that best suits you, and the spell is cast…” She repeated Gilmore’s words. The way that best suited her? A sly look left and right as if assuring herself she was utterly alone, she set the coin between her teeth and bit down to test if it were real gold.

In a flash of bright light that made her squint, the coin disappeared and when she blinked back to focus, there was a man before her. Her lips twitched and her fingers rose to cover them as she took him in. 

The pale white hair had been dressed to sweep back and upward as if there were a constant wind blowing from under him. The glasses on his nose glinted in the lamplight as he reached up to adjust them faintly. The slender body, always looking just a touch underfed, was bare excepting for a tiny loincloth of deep blue silk and thin silver chains that held it up at the sides. His legs long and well-muscled like a swimmer, he stood barefoot and unabashed. Even in such a getup, he exuded the strength and confidence that made her fall in love with him. 

“Oh, yes.” he cleared his throat and put on the same tone he’d used when seducing grass in the Feywild. “Oh Mistress, I am but your humble slave. I am sent from the realm of mystery to cater to your every decadent and lascivious fantasy.” His blues sparkled with humor and adoration. “Your wish is my command. Use me as you wilt.” 

She had to bite back the urge to giggle. “Percival, Darling, what is that outfit?”

“You don’t like it?” He asked with a mild tone of hurt. “Gilmore said it brought out my eyes.” Turning a bit this way and that as he looked down at the almost-nothing he was wearing, an action that gave her little flash peeks at his taut backside which was not covered at all it seemed. 

“I don’t think Shaun was looking at your eyes, Percy.” She bit her lip and gave a little wriggle down into the cushion. “So, you’re my slave huh?” A little warming sensation tingling its way down her belly. 

Percy looked over and the smile he gave was the one that made her knees go all to pudding and her heart to hammer against her ribs. “I am yours, Mistress. Pleasing you is my only reason for existing.” 

“Hmm. Well, you see, I have no desires to satisfy.” She shook her head. “I’m happily married, I have a wonderful life, amazing friends, a truly exceptional bear …” She rose from her chair. “So if you’re going to satisfy anyone’s desires tonight they will not be mine.” She moved toward him, her index brushing over his chest, making him shiver a bit. 

“You’ve no desires at all?” His voice a bit husky as his eyes raked over her. “Can’t even think of maybe.. one or two? Perhaps I could put forth a few sugges…” his words cut off when her finger laid against his lips. 

“Let’s say that I have none of my own. Perhaps though, you might allow me to use my wish, as it were, to satisfy someone else’s desire?” Her fingers moving over his jawline, leaning close, their lips nearly touching. 

He swallowed hard, nodding softly. “Who...who’s desire shall I set forth to satisfy?”

Vex slid her hand to the line of his hipbone and tugged at the chain gently. “My daughter wants a sibling. Think you can make that happen, Slave?” her eyes on his mouth, so damn tempting. 

In a sweep he had snatched her up off her feet and was carrying her toward the bedroom. “I swear I shall not rest until your will is done, Mistress.” 

A squeal as a body hit the bed, the giggles turning to purrs and moans. The hour passed, the breathy mingled grunts grew wilder and desperate. 

“Who does it belong to?” 

“Yours!” Vex’ahlia cried in abandon, her voice trembling with ecstasy. “It’s yours, always!” 

“Damned right it is.” He groaned against her sweat-damp breast. 

The sounds of his slavish devotion to satisfying her wish rose and fell over and over, again and again, and did not abate until dawn was lighting the sky.


	4. Keyleth

Keyleth was glad to be in her room. She couldn’t say she wasn’t having fun. It was thrilling in a way to be flirted with and so much sexy man to look at wasn’t horrible. She then, of course, felt overwhelmed by guilt that she’d been titillated even though she’d never ever do anything with anyone. She loved Vax. She always would. 

But he’d died. It was a fresh wound still, and seeing him again at the wedding had been problematic. She did love him but he wasn’t even really him anymore. He was _Hers_ now. He’d moved on but she couldn’t. Should she even want to? She wasn’t the kind of girl who just … jumped into bed with a man because she was feeling lonely. Even with Vax it had been more about the sharing of affection and a closeness more than friends than some… tangle of lust and passion. 

She eyed the emerald glass chest and twisted her fingers before her. Maybe a tangle was what she needed. Something fleeting and meaningless. It seemed to work for so many. A rebound. Use it or lose it. No. That was just not her. She wasn’t going to conjure some … horny djinn from who-knows-where to sex her up just because she was sad and lonely. 

“I’m so pathetic…” She sank down on the chair and opened the box. The interior was lined with deep green velvet and on it sat a small silver dagger. She lifted it out of the box and turned it in her fingers, curious over what it could mean when the tip caught her thumb and sliced enough to let a drop of blood ooze out. 

“Ow!” She dropped it and with a bright ‘snap!’ of light, a figure appeared before her. Long chestnut hair framed a handsome if humorless face. A band of gold circled his brow. He was shirtless, the multitude of scars lining his chest and arms stark against his skin as he stood with his hands on his hips. His lower half was dressed in diaphanous trousers that hid nothing. Thankfully he was wearing a pair of very brief underwear beneath them. 

“This.” He sighed sharply. “ _This_ is what I’m reduced to.” His clipped and snarky voice raised with no attempt to hide his mood as he looked her way. “Oh yeah.” He raised his hands at the level of his shoulders, palm out. “Oh great Mistress, I live to serve you and satisfy your every whim.” Dryly spoken. “Command me and I bend to your will, oh lovely one.” 

She blinked and blushed. “Um...Kash… I uh.. I didn’t know that you’d be.. that when I opened the box I was expecting, well, not you and …” She swallowed hard. “Hi.” 

“Heya Kiki.” He gave a wave and lowered his hands back to his hips. “How’s it goin’?”

“Uh..” She was so confused. “Good? I guess? I thought that this was going to conjure some kind of… lust demon or something.” 

“Did you want it to?” He asked with a stare of interest in her answer. 

“No! I mean, I don’t…” She shrugged. “I love Vax.” 

“And I love Zahra, yet here we are.” He said with a shrug. “Do you want me to stay?” 

“No, I'm okay.” She hung her head a bit. 

“Okay then.” He sighed. “If you really don’t want me to ravage you...” 

She looked up in shocked panic and caught his cocky smirk. 

“Gotcha.” He stepped over and patted her shoulder. “Don’t knock yourself around. Things like this take time. Frankly, I was just happy to get out of the house for a while. Three tieflings is .. it’s a lot.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Take care of yourself.” 

She flinched in surprise but he was gone before she could answer him. She told herself she was fine. That she didn't want him to stay, which was true. She didn't feel that way about Kash, but it might have been nice to have company for a while. Company that had been, as she recalled, a very strong kisser. 

“Tea?” 

She jumped, whipping around to see Gilmore at the door between her room and the sitting room. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I doubted you’d choose to keep your companion.” He stepped away and she followed. "He just wanted to see the look on your face I think." 

"Um, I suppose I must have looked pretty surprised. I don't really know what I was expecting. Not that, but ..." She shrugged. "I don't even know why I opened the box."

"Because you miss him. You miss _him_ and...you miss being loved." Pouring a cup of tea, he set it down, then sat across from the chair, pouring his own cup. “I thought I’d step in and satisfy your real want tonight." 

"What's that?" 

"To talk with someone who has no intention of telling you to get over him.” He took a soft sip. “I don’t imagine I ever will.” 

Keyleth sat down and lifted the cup and took a sip. It was warm and sweet and it made her stomach feel less butterfly-plagued. It started small and stilted, but soon enough she and Shaun were laughing, crying, sharing memories and half-forgotten dreams. 

Keyleth took her pleasure in the confidence of a friend, talking all night and when she finally slept, it was peaceful and her dreams left her waking with hope, not heartache.


	5. Pike

Pike took a long bath. She had enjoyed herself a lot, laughing with Vex and Keyleth and the other girls but… she was feeling a little lonely. It had been two months since Great-Great Grandpappy Wilhand had passed away, and while it had been peaceful and she knew he was with Seranrae, she missed him awfully. 

Scanlan had been off on some adventure with Grog for two weeks and she missed him too. She had always liked him. Always been fond, but since the defeat of Vecna, no, even before that, he had been a changed man. He was more mature. More kind somehow. She agreed to go out on a date and had a nice time so there was another… and another, and another. 

She thought she’d loved someone once, but in time she’d come to see that while she did love him, it was not the love one had for a lover, but for a friend in need. His pain, his broken mind and broken heart touched the healer in her and she wanted to make him whole. She learned that it wasn’t about fixing his broken parts at all, but finding someone whose broken parts filled in his as his did hers. Percy belonged with Vex and she didn’t feel anything but happy for them. 

What she felt for Scanlan was different. He was broken, undoubtedly, but she didn’t want to fix him. She wanted to share the world with him. To see things through his eyes, to laugh and sing and be joyful or miserable or excited… to express her feelings instead of always having to put on a brave and calm face. 

She eyed the chest, glinting like a diamond on the edge of the bed. She thought about the poor creature enslaved, how might it feel to be left ignored. Would it die? She could let it out, just to free it. She didn’t want anything else from it, no matter how lonely she was feeling. “Nothing at all.” She said it aloud, as if she needed convincing. 

Opening the chest she found a small silver whistle. Putting it to her lips she blew a soft haunting note that wavered faintly in the air. Nothing happened for a long moment and then the wind that seemed to always drift lightly through the room began to pick up, the curtains on the bed rippling as a fog crept over the floor. A pulsing light, like a heartbeat, fluttered in the fog, words drifting faintly on the wind.

_geddit geddit.. geddit geddit…whoa..._

The ghostly moan seeming to drift around her as the light rose in a vibrant twist of red and blues that melded to a rich purple bubble that popped and at the center was a male gnome in a pair of purple leather pants that hung low on his hips, his bare chest glittered with some gold metallic dust, his dark hair loosely sweeping his neck as he swayed. 

_“I’m a...slave… for you. I cannot control it. I’m not trying to hide it…”_

He really was very attractive. He knew it, of course, and he had been in more beds than goose feathers had. Still, he was here, with her. He’d not shown anyone else attention since he’d come back from Ank'Harel.

_”Don’t you wanna… dance up on me…”_ he moved over and slid his hands across her waist, waggling his eyebrows at her as he did so. 

“I do not.” She said firmly and the music in the wind drifted to quiet, his hands still on her waist as his eyes moved over her face. 

“Are you sure about that? We magical sex genies have ways of telling when you lie.” His lip caught between his teeth, his fingers moving up to twist in her still-damp hair. “You’re so clean…” he leaned in and brushed his cheek against hers, his lips pouring warm breath into her ear. “And I’m so dirty…” 

She shuddered despite herself. “I thought you were my slave? If that’s true, you have to do what I say.” 

He stepped back and bowed low. “I live to service you.” 

“Serve.” She corrected him. 

"Tomato To-mah-to.” He grinned wickedly up at her with a wink. 

She felt a little nervous flutter, as she knew it was Scanlan, but then again, what if it was some … wicked sex imp or something just using an illusion. He was acting so strangely. “I have a boyfriend.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

The golden-glinting gnome slid his hand up and took her left hand, lifting it toward his bowing head, his lips playing soft kisses across the back of it. The warmth of his mouth left echoes of sensation that tingled all the way up her arm. He brushed the backs of her fingers with his thumb as he looked up into her eyes, his voice soft and sensual. 

_”If he liked it then he shoulda put a ring on it...”_ His grin cocky and his fingers dexterous as he toyed with hers. 

“I.. I don’t … I mean…” She was so flustered at the moment. "He's not the sort..." 

“Do you like math?” He asked as he stood straighter and took a step toward her, one she countered by backing up. Her retreat met by his advance until she bumped into the wall and his hand moved to set on the stone over her shoulder. 

“Um… I’m not sure I understand the question.” 

"it's a simple question, Pikey-pooh." His fingers tugged at the tie of her robe and undid the knot. “Do. You. Like. Math?” 

“I guess so.” She murmured, her heart racing with a sensual nervousness as his fingers crept under the terrycloth and over her bare stomach. 

“Good.” He leaned in and closed his teeth against her ear, nipping playfully. “I’m going to teach you to multiply with the square root.” 

She gasped, the robe sliding off and onto the floor and all protest slid away with it. 


	6. Trisha

Trisha closed the door to her room, a low chuckle dancing on her lips. She was, at first, a little unsure she ought to come when Cassandra invited her. The idea of a girl’s day at the spa wasn’t exactly her ‘thing’. She’d been wrong. So very wrong. She’d relished the pampering and felt like a new woman. She’d even felt like one of the gang in their matchy-matchy little dresses. She trailed her fingers over the slinky material with a smile. Sexy red dresses weren’t something she ever thought she’d actually be wearing. 

That had been quite the show and she’d wished she had more coin to give. They’d been talented and hot and what more could you ask for? Well, the ruby glimmer of the glass chest was a reminder that presents were always nice too. The box opened and she blinked in surprise. 

The ring was simple in design, a large cylindrical crystal wound with silver wire atop the band. She slid it on and turned her hand this way and that, watching the light glint. Djinn huh? She laughed to herself, wondering what she’d do with some magical servant at her beck and call. Well, she had a few ideas. If it was, like the guy said, one of those sexy types, well, she was in a mood for that. If not, and a fight was all it wanted, she could roll with that too. Either way she was looking forward to a fun night. 

She tried everything she could think of. Rubbed it, tried all manner of magic-sounding phrases, but all she got was annoyed. What had that guy said? You had to break the seal in the way that suits you best. A little grin and she turned, drawing back and with the ring front and center, she punched the wall, shattering the crystal into a fine glittering powder. 

The wind lifted, whipping at her hard as it sent up the bits of paper on the desk, sending them to spiral and flutter like a cyclone in the center of the bedroom. Lightning flashed amidst the tempest as shadows blended and formed. The papers began to smolder, then burn, the smoke whirling for several seconds more before the wind faded and the ashes fell, vanishing into nothingness before they touched the ground. 

Crouching there, kneeling with his fists on the ground, head bowed, was a body she knew well. The grey skin, the black markings, the tattoo that spanned his massive back flexing with every breath. She could not say she was disappointed. She’d almost spoken her greeting when his low, dangerous rumble of a voice stopped the words on her tongue. 

“Who calls me from the realm of night?” He lifted his chin, his eyes aflame with what she could surmise was simmering rage. “Bound in chains, a slave to your bidding.” She noticed then that he was, indeed, chained. Heavy silvery manacles ran from mid-forearm to wrist, thick links running down to puddle on the floor around what seemed a very large iron ring. 

He looked her up and down. “Pretty mistress. It will be a shame to break you, but I must have the key.” 

“What key?” she asked, crossing her arms. 

He rose to his feet, showing now that the chains were all he was wearing. Like a Y, they ran from his wrists to the longer chain that was attached to the ring on the floor. Where the chains met was a small square that looked like a circle with a line through it, no more than an inch across. “Free me and it will be quick.” He growled through his teeth. 

“Oh, I don’t think I want quick.” She chuckled and moved toward the bed, skirting him as she did so. Sinking down on the edge she leaned back on her palms, her legs crossed, watching him with a half-smile. “You must promise to obey if you want out of the chains.” 

He stepped toward her and she grinned as he was pulled up short. He yanked at the chains but they did not budge. He could not get within a foot and a half of the bed. His brow knit in confusion and frustration but his predicament only sparked her own devilish side. 

“Ooh, so close.” She pouted and let her legs uncross and then cross again with the other leg dominant, knowing he got a little peek at the goodies. 

“Come on..” this voice was the Grog she knew. A plea born of want, no longer playing whatever role he was supposed to be acting out. Concentration was never his strong suit. “Gimmie the key.”

“And what’s in it for me if I do?” 

His hands jangled as they dropped beneath his navel to the marvel that was his waking arousal. 

“Oh yes… that.” her tongue moved to dampen her lips as she took him in, every twitch, every flutter of pulse beneath the ashy skin. “Tempting…” She lifted her eyes to his. “But I’m a girl who can handle herself.” Her calloused fingertips slid over her thighs, down her knees, back up as she let the digits catch at the edge of her dress, dragging the deep claret silk higher. 

“Don’t.” he spoke in a tone between growl and plea. “I promised I’d play pretend but you’re cheating.” The chains rattled as he jerked at them and attempted to close the distance. 

Her hand slid upward, trailing over the cloth to cover her breast with a little moan, her face a mask of pleasure and want. She groaned and cooed, watching under half-closed lids as he went still, staring as she began a slow grind on the edge of the mattress, her feet planting on the floor, knees parted. 

“Stop it.” he yanked on the chains and she was sure if they weren’t magical he’d have torn a chunk out of the floor by now. 

“Swear you’ll obey.” She just wanted to hear him say it. Obviously he was just as determined now to hold his tongue. “Mmm.. suit yourself.” She eyed the ring still on her finger. Where the crystal had been bound there was a line deeply engraved in the circular platform. “Oh, you want _this_ key.” Knowing his eyes were on it it was that hand that moved between her thighs, that petted and delved and teased until her breath was coming in little shaky gasps. 

The aura of danger was like a wave of heat from a forge as his fingers occasionally brushed across his length. “Please…” he gave her the doe eyes. “Can’t I have even a little taste…” 

She couldn’t resist his little quivering lower lip. Rising she moved a bit closer. “Kneel.” He glowered a moment but then sank down on his knees, the chain again pooling between them. She offered out her hand, the fingers glossy with lust-honey and he pounced, his mouth closing over her fingers, sucking and licking at them greedily. She jerked back, but not fast enough as his beard now framed the flash of teeth in a grin, the ring now between those pearly rows. 

“Oh shit.” She ran with a little thrill of both fight and flight surging through her. In seconds he was out of the chains and on her heels. She ducked into the bathroom but he was there before she could even close the door, his thick fingers encircling her waist and lifting her up, carrying her forward into the corner where he pinned her, astride the knee he drove into the wall. 

From overhead, the silver disk began to pour out water like a thunderstorm, but heated, making the dress cling to her like a second skin as he drug her arms over her head. His mouth fell against her neck, gnawing, growling, drooling as he suckled hot purple marks of possession across her skin. Her knee rubbed against his hardness and he flinched, pulling back. 

He kept her pinned there, her feet unable to touch the floor as he shifted, grabbing hold of her thighs and spreading them wide, taking her in a single thrust. 

“Ugh!” She cried out and dug her nails into his shoulders. “Don’t stop!” 

“I will obey.” He growled, and happily did as she commanded.


End file.
